


Lake House

by neveranygoodupthere



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations, Virginity, less sex than you'd think sorry, non-hockey au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 10:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19316671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveranygoodupthere/pseuds/neveranygoodupthere
Summary: Mitch brings it up first, because of course he does. Not that Connor hasn’t thought about it. He’s definitely thought about it.





	Lake House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/gifts).



> Hi eafay70! I was happy to write this short, sweet fic for you! Hopefully you enjoy it and it hits some of your likes. :)

Mitch brings it up first, because of course he does. Not that Connor hasn’t thought about it. He’s definitely thought about it. But why ruin a good thing by changing the dynamics?

“Is it a good thing, though?” Mitch asks when Connor makes the point. The sun beats down on Connor, hot but not too hot, as he lounges on the dock outside his lake house. He doesn’t open his eyes to look over at his boyfriend, doesn’t need to to know he’s dangling his feet off the side and chewing on his thumb nail in though.

“It’s not that I think it’s bad,” he continues. “But I think it could be better.”

“By having a threesome with my best friend?”

“He’s my friend too, you know. And not a threesome. Or I mean, yeah. We could have a threesome. We should have a threesome.” Connor does look over then, smirking as he sees the smallest chub starting to form in Mitch’s swim trunks. He’s so easy. “But like…we should bring him in on this. As like, a partner.”

“You sound like you’re making a business deal.”

Mitch smacks him on the stomach. “Shut up, this is fucking weird to talk about!”

Connor laughs and sits up. He leans in to Mitch’s space, kisses the frown tugging at his lips, then the spot just below the corner of his jaw. They’re on a private lake, but he still looks around to make sure no one’s there before he returns his lips to Mitch’s neck and slips his hand inside his trunks.

“A full partner, you think? Equal shares?” Connor tightens his grip, shifts so Mitch can get a hand on him too.

“I just—fuck, Davo—he’s basically in this relationship anyway. The only—mm, yeah babe—the only thing we don’t do with him is fuck.”

“You’d like that? To fuck him?” Connor bats Mitch’s hand away from his dick, ignores his whimper as he releases him so he can scoot backward on the dock. They’ve scrunched up the towels they were laying on enough to make them mostly useless, but they’ll make do. Connor tugs Mitch’s arm, and he gets the picture immediately, shifting to straddle him. Connor reaches in again and strokes.

“Do you think about fucking him, Mitch?” Connor licks his tongue up Mitch’s chest. It’s sweaty, flushed and heaving, as Connor strokes faster, paints more of the picture. “Or do you think about him fucking you? Or maybe you want me to fuck him while you watch.”

“Davo, please. I can’t—”

“No, I don’t think that last one would work. You like being in on the action, don’t you?” Mitch only whines, head thrown back. Connor’s hand stills. “Don’t you, Mitch?”

“Yes, god, yes. Keep—” Connor moves again.

“I know you do, baby. You can fuck him. But you won’t know what to do will you? I’ve known him longer, I know what he likes best. So you’ll fuck him,” Connor runs his thumb over the tip, digs his fingernail in just a little. “And I’ll tell you exactly how.”

“Fuck yessss—” he spills over Connor’s hand. 

* * *

 

They talk about it again, later, when they’re driving into town for groceries and there’s no possibility of it turning into sex

“I just think it’s inevitable,” Mitch says.

“Why?” Connor’s been to Port Bright every summer of his life, and he never remembers how to get to the grocery store. Mitch only makes fun of him for it sometimes. Dylan makes fun of him for it all the time. Connor’s not so sure he needs the two of them ganging up on him more than they already do.

“He fits. Or, we all fit together. You and me, we’re great. I’ve never been happier, dude. I don’t want you to think I’m not happy.” Connor turns left, finally finding the road that will take them to the Freshmart. He relaxes into the seat. Mitch is doing that thing where he talks to fast because he’s nervous Connor will be mad at him. Connor wishes he wouldn’t be. They’ve been boyfriends for three years now, and he’d like to think they’re in a place where he even if he were to get mad, Mitch would know he’d get over it. But he’ll allow this is probably an unusual circumstance.

“I don’t think that.”

Mitch pauses mid thumbnail bite. “You don’t?”

“I don’t.” He looks over and cracks up at Mitch’s gaping mouth. “Dude, you had a chance to go to Tracy Marcinko’s lake house this summer with practically her entire sorority. They have wet t-shirt contests there that are legendary. But you didn’t even ask me if we could go, because you wanted it to be just us. I know how much you love boobs. And how much you love me.”

“I do love boobs.” Mitch smiles. “And you.”

“See? I’m not worried.” Connor keeps his eyes on the road but leans over for Mitch to give him a quick cheek kiss. He does, but when he settles back in his seat, the smile is gone.

“I always want to be with you, Davo. But…I like Dylan being there too.”

They pull into the parking lot and Connor shuts off the car.

“He’s my oldest friend. It’s not that I’m not…intrigued,” he says, and bites his lip. Now he understands Mitch’s fear. He’s thought about it before, when the three of them were playing chel, and wrestling the controllers away from each other was more of an excuse to touch than a desire to win the game. Or when they were drifting out on the boat, sun-drunk and content to bask in each other’s company—Connor never felt more peaceful, more at home.

But admitting this to the man he was planning on spending the rest of his life with, that he kind of loves the idea of the rest of their lives including another person…well, it’s a weird discussion to have.

“There are just a lot of things that could go wrong,” he finally says. “And I’d rather not lose you both.”

“You won’t lose me, Davo.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Mitch says, and slides his fingers through Connor’s. “But I think it could be worth it.

“We’ll talk to Dylan at dinner tonight, okay? See what he thinks.” Connor squeezes Mitch’s hand tight before glancing out the window with a sigh. “And please let’s never have a serious conversation outside the Freshmart again.” 

* * *

 

Dylan knows something’s up as soon as he sits down in Connor’s dining room. Mitch and Connor are talking too loudly with him about the Leafs chances this year, but neither of them will look at him or each other. It’s…off-putting. But they don’t seem like they’re fighting, so he just shrugs, rips on Mitch’s devout belief in Kyle Dubas, and digs into his spaghetti.

Dinner remains weird. Mitch spills a glass of water halfway through. Connor, uncharacteristically, gets sauce all over his t-shirt. They don’t stop talking about the Leafs once.

He tries not to get jealous when Davo and Marns do domestic things like go grocery shopping, or act weird at dinner about something he’s clearly not in on. But the three of them are so close, so inseparable, that it’s jarring to be reminded his two best friends have lives outside of him, lives they share with each other.

The first time he realized he was jealous of the time they spent together, he had a mini-existential crisis. Dylan and Mitch had a rocky start when he and Connor first started dating. But after Dylan realized Mitch’s goofiness and energy were a good balance to Connor’s seriousness, and even to Dylan’s own too-chill attitude, they became as close as he and Connor were. Dylan had always wanted Connor, but he was always able to bury it so as not to disrupt their friendship. Was Mitch’s presence going to force him to do something about it?

That fear quickly vanished after he’d had three straight nights of sex dreams about Mitch. Which of course brought on the new fear of what Dylan would do about wanting to fuck his best friend’s guy. But when he checked in with himself, he realized he still wanted to fuck Connor too. And being the laid back guy he was, he decided as long as he wanted both of them, and everything was fair, he wouldn’t worry over it too much. It’s only in moments like this one that the pain of being the third wheel really hits him.

But the food is too good to dwell on it. He polishes off his plate and reaches for seconds when he feels a sharp jab under the table. “Ow, what was that for?”

Connor startles, turns his gaze to him wide-eyed. “Uhh, sorry. I just, um—”

“Tried to kick Mitch but got me instead?” Dylan says, taking pity on him. Connor blushes, something Dylan’s never seen him do before. The night keeps getting weirder.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. But honestly, enough is enough. “What the fuck’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing’s going on,” Connor says. Mitch glares at him, and he sighs. “Okay, something’s going on.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Yeah. Yeah, ok.” Connor licks his lips. “But you’re probably not going to like it.”

* * *

 

Dylan likes it. He definitely likes it. Mitch can’t keep the grin from his face as he sits on the bed with his boyfriend and their best friend. None of them are sure where to start, but Mitch isn’t worried; they’ll figure it out.

When he first proposed this whole scenario to Connor, he imagined them kind of…courting Dylan first. Taking him on dates, buying him flowers, sharing soft kisses before they went back to their respective bedrooms in Connor’s lake house. As the summer ended, before they went back to the real world of classes and papers and senior year job hunting, that’s when the plan would culminate, and, well, they’d fuck like bunnies.

But somewhere in Connor’s winding speech about redefining their relationship, the depth of their affection for Dylan, how expanding love had to be better than limiting it—somewhere in there he’d said the word “threesome” and Dyland had said, “Yes let’s do that.” And here they are.

Here they are, on the bed, all with their clothes still on. Mitch makes to remedy that, grasping the back of his shirt collar and tugging it over his head. He moves to toss it in the hamper, when Dylan lays a hand on his arm.

“Wait. I’ve gotta tell you guys something before we do this.”

“What’s up, babe?” Connor laces his hand through Dylan’s and Mitch does the same. Dylan stares at their hands for a minute, almost smiles.

“I’ve never, um. I’ve never done this before.”

“Neither have we,” Mitch says.

“No, I mean…any of it. Any sort of sex thing. With anyone.”

Connor draws back. “What do you mean? Yes, you have. What about Jamie Chapman?”

“Yeah, we made out a bunch at parties, but that’s about as far as it went.”

“Chris Boggs?”

“Nope.”

“Quentin—”

“Connor, if I’d fucked any of these guys, don’t you think I would have told you? I mean, I was there the first time you popped a boner. We jerked off together like fifty times! You and Ashton let me watch you give each other blow—oh wow, we should’ve figured all this out sooner.”

Mitch laughs at their twin dumbfounded looks. Yeah, they definitely still had a lot to talk about, logistics to work out, feelings to explore, and, above all else, a friendship to preserve. But right now, as he sits next to the two best people he knows, the two people he loves more than anyone else in the world, he knows they’ll figure it out and be happier than any three people have the right to be.

 


End file.
